#just in case the title sticks and I can't think of it as anything else

[tiger-moran]

I need a working title for this modern fic

[fyrefrostanimus]

More Slay The Princess posting because I had an AU idea that was so simple yet so stupidly funny to me.

Suburbia AU. All the Voices and Chapter II Princesses are not inside The Construct and are instead people living in a little suburb town: since the Voices are not voices and the Princesses are not really princesses here, I'll just refer to them as their titles. The Narrator is not counted as he does not have a parallel Princess.

I'll start with the Not-Voices as the drawing of the player character I posted earlier today inspired these headshots, which later spiraled into this AU.

To start, Hero and Princess are a newlywed couple who just moved here. The others are also technically married to each other (except for Hunted) but I wanted to specify these two. They saw the housing prices were low and moved here, not knowing the batshit crazy things that go on there. Hero always tries to do the right thing, to varying degrees of success. He'll listen to all sides before deciding if he can, just as in game as a voice.

Contrarian is a funny guy. He's always cracking jokes with Stranger, and whenever someone visits (or, in the case of Hero, moves in), he calls this place a normal town. Because compared to the things he has seen with his multi-headed wife (wives?), this is normal. Ask him and he will describe the most bizzare things you have ever heard, leaving you to question if this is actually something he has witnessed or if he's making shit up for fun (he has been known to do both).

Stubborn originally concerned everyone when they heard physical fights break out every night from their house. Then they realized that this is just how him and Adversary usually act. They both like fighting each other and yes Stubborn got fired from a job at one point for starting a fight club. If you manage to break his fighting spirit, Skeptic woukd like to talk to you to ask how the hell you managed to do it.

Smitten really can't see the problem with most of the odd couples in town. He really believes in treating your wife how she wishes to be treated, whether that be daily brawls or something that escalates further than that. Really he only has issues with Cheated, since he can't tell how Razor feels.

Cold killed his wife. Let's get that out of the way. Only he can see and hear her ghost and he's genuinely surprised she still loves him. He moved to town because the law was on his tail and they couldn't do anything in this little town. He talks about his wife in past tense but everyone knows he talks to himself like she's still here (he's actually talking to Spectre).

Opportunist and Witch always think the other is up to something. This causes the Pygmalion Effect to go into action, retroactively making both of them right. No one on the outside understands how they're still married, but Smitten somehow has concluded this is a game they play with each other, no matter how much Skeptic tries to tell him they are not kidding each other.

Cheated has to keep Razor locked up because she will kill everyone else she can if she's free. The only reason he's not dead is because she can't bring herself to kill him: not that she'd weep at the idea, it's that killing someone she loves would feel slightly weird when there are other possible victims. The problem is that no one understands why he has to keep his wife in the basement.

No one believes Broken when he says his wife is a goddess. Smitten says all of them are, but everyone else has picked up on the fact that Broken is being completely serious. Everyone thinks it's part of his religion that his goddess is his wife as he is her priest, but Tower refuses to tell them because she finds it funny that they don't just take his word for it. It's entertaining enough to her that she's fine with being in the background. For now.

Hunted fears for his own life. Beast is deeply obsessed with him and knowing her, you can see how this is going to go. He always carries a weapon on the off chance she shows up, and sticks with grouos whenever he can since she'll only come after him when he's alone. Ironically he's more paranoid than Paranoid half the time.

Skeptic likes setting up escape rooms and letting Prisoner test-run them before giving everyone else a go: if she can't solve a puzzle, there's no way in hell anyone who doesn't already know the answer can. He's also usually the last one to come to a conclusion about anything.

Paranoid knows that he needs to be careful around Nightmare, because she could easily kill him by accident. He's also been sure to tell everyone else how to survive being around her since he'd feel extremely bad if they died because they didn't know.

[sol-consort]

Omg do you think humans don’t vibe with the Asari as much as they do with literally every other species is because we know where we stand with everyone else?

We don't vibe with asari? I mean, I have personal beef with them bc of how they handled ME3, but besides that, the asari have been a little delightful, pretentious, but charming still. It's hard to stay mad at someone so pretty.

But you have a point, humans and turians mingle more often than humans and asari. Hell, humans and krogans seem to have much more fun. Even salarians enjoy our food and culture... but the asari are just there.

I think humanity's lack of "special" bond with asari is because...well, the asari can't exploit us in a way that matters.

LISTEN—listen okay. So, each species the asari are close with "lacks" certain things. Salarians with their imbalance 90/10 male to female ratio meaning a lot of them will never get married, Krogans inability to have kids because of the genophage, Vorcha with their limit 20y lifespan and underdeveloped society, Quarians living in poverty and requiring, expensive antibiotics, environmental suit and its maintenance costs to stay alive.

And the asari take advantage of that. Not always malicious, but they feel inclined to meddle within each species and attempt to fill the empty spaces in order to advance their own society.

Many salarians marry asari, said asari not minding since they'll outlive them.

Krogans who desperately want kids, the one thing the asari can give them.

The vorcha whom they actually enslaved and exploited for years, who couldn't defend themselves in court because the asari would just stall the case until the vorcha eventually dies, not to mention the fact they kept them illiterate and uneducated on purpose.

Swindling someone out of their money in Thessia is not a crime, there are zero laws to defend the customer, everyone is trying to scam everyone and quarians always get the short end of the stick and end up signing up for things they don't understand, drowning in debt until the asari sells them to a different company they must work for like a slave.

The asari are parasitic by nature. They find a weakness within a species and exploit it to advance their own. They're probably not aware of it, nor do it intentionally, but this is the reality of their existence.

A race that requires a different species to reproduce will always only prosper on the suffering of others. A Cuckoo is very beautiful, but it can't build its own nest, so it lays eggs in other birds' nest and tricks them into raising its own. A brood parasite. As the chick hatches, it will push the other eggs off of the nest, ensuring it's the only one that remains.

They can dress up their society as much as they like, swear by the goddess, adorn all the titles of justicar and else. Speak with eloquence and act with grace. They still are opportunistic parasites at their core.

Humans are self-fulfilling, everything the asari can offer us—both the good and the bad—we already have ourselves. Even our biotics research advancement reaches a stage in ME3 where the asari asks to have a look at it.

We like the asari, but we don't need them.

Not to mention the whole brainwashing thing to make themselves seem the most appealing to your brain, tricking you into viewing them as very similar to your species—yeah we glossed over that we too quickly.

It could also just be the Mass Effect storywriters keeping them a blank page on purpose, all the stuff about the asari intricate world, brutal capitalist society, inner conflict, civil wars as several groups demand isolation from the rest of the aliens, the fact they can easily birth bloodthirsty demon like biotics, or the whole racism issue based on who the father is, all of that is swiftly swept under the rug fot the "hot human-lite all-women alien species."

The turians are also a species that seemingly doesn't lack anything.

Sure, they can be a little uptight and too military centred, but they seem uh happy with their mandatory bootcamps for kids?

So them and the asari don't mingle much, they are on good terms but asari don't often go for turians, and it's true the other way around as well.

You see more human/turian couples than asari/turian ones in Mass Effect.

[creamypudding]

AkuRoku WIP

I'm working on a new AkuRoku fic and as I'm getting toward the end of the 1st draft I'm getting excited and want to share the first chapter.

Glorious Hell (Working Title)

Chapter 1 -

The last of the kids have been picked up by their parents and there is nothing left but to mop the floors, straighten the pews, hunt for missed trash, and snuff out the candles before turning in for the night.

Lea takes his sweet ass time, savoring the solitude. If he stays out long enough, Ansem will be asleep in the rectory, which saves him getting quizzed on bible verses, or having to plan for the next day ahead.

Tomorrow can wait, which is something he always tries to sell to Ansem, but the man can’t chill for a second. Lea wonders if he’ll be the same when he’s old and closer to meeting his maker.

A strong gust of wind blows one of the heavy-set westerly doors open, sending it banging against the stone wall. One of the kids must’n't have shut it properly. The candles all start to flicker and some blow out completely.

‘Thank you, lord, for giving me a hand,’ he thinks. ‘But I’m in no rush,’ he adds.

The wind rattles the whole building. Rain pelts against the windows and comes in through the opening. Lea reaches the other end and puts his shoulder against the door, slowly pushing it shut. Before he closes it all the way he peers out into the night, making out the battered and bent trees in the park and their quaking leaves. 

Lightning flashes, illuminating a figure running toward the church. Lea sticks his head past the threshold of the door and calls, ”Hurry.” He waves in case the sodden soul isn't able to hear him.

The person runs quicker and zooms past Lea, entering the dry sanctuary. Rubber soles squeak as the person comes to a stop. They stoop, bracing hands on knees and pant sharply. “Th-thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” Lea says with a smile. “I’m glad to offer you shelter from this storm.” He turns away to shut the door, and securely latches this time around. He needs to remind the kids how to properly exit the church. He turns toward his guest. “I can't offer you anything except for shelter though. But stay for as long as you need.”

“Thanks.” The person straightens, peels off the sodden jacket’s hood, and turns around revealing golden hair, short of stature, fair faced, black… black eye—

Lea’s heart stops. His jaw drops. Ringing in his ears takes away the sound of rain and the voice which is clearly leaving—

“Ven—” Lea whispers with his last remaining breath. His vision speckles.

Ventus steps closer, looking concerned. His black eye is the color of death.

Lea’s world starts to spin as the ringing in his ears hits a fevered pitch. The grand church hall diminishes and there is nothing but darkness that surrounds Lea and Ventus, until even Ven gets swallowed by the abyss.

------------

Something wet drips on his face. Lea grimaces and opens his eyes. A face is way too close. Big blue eyes stare down at him.

“Are you okay?”

 Lea jerks and uses his hands and feet to scooch out from under the other man. He gets a clear view of the church ceiling. 

Is he… on the floor? “Wh-what happened?” He raises onto his elbows.

“You collapsed. But I managed to catch you before you cracked your head open.”

The voice is all wrong. Lea looks—stares—at Ventus. His hair’s cut short. It’s not so wild and shaggy. His eye… oh, God, his eye! “Ven… Ventus. What… I thought you were—”

“Uh, I’m sorry, you got me mistaken for someone else.” The man stands up from his crouched position. “My name’s Roxas. I’m… I only just arrived in town. Are you alright?”

Not… Ven? He feels immense relief, because otherwise he’d be seeing ghosts, which would be a concern all its own. Lea plants his hands on the ground, gets his feet under himself, and gets up, slowly. It’s like he’s been run over. 

Ventus—no—Roxas, Lea shakes his head—is at his side, stabilizing him up by holding him at the elbow. He’s so damn short… like Ven…

“Thank you. Sorry to scare you. I’m fine.” Lea pulls out of the supportive hold and steps—stumbles—backward but catches himself.

“You sure?” The other man comes after him, like a hungry demon feeding off tortured souls and seeing a smorgasbord in Lea. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Lea grounds himself by literally looking at the ground and breathes deep. He’s fine. All of this is fine. He's just tired. Tired of mopping the floors. Is that water on the marble ground? How’d he miss that?

He pulls his gaze up off the floor, only to be assaulted by the vision before him. The resemblance is uncanny. Is this a test from God? A reminder? A punishment? 

“Here, let me help you take a seat. You're looking pale.” The man takes a step closer and reaches for Lea, who feels feeble. But not enough to not be able to walk himself ten steps to a pew.

“I’m okay.” He shakes off the help, which follows him closely like he’s a frail octogenarian. He might as well be the way he’s shuffling to the closest row of pews.

The ringing in his ears ebbs and flows. It’s worse when he looks at the other man—seriously, that’s not Ventus? What the fuck?—’Sorry, God.’ But that’s really not Ven? He needs to sit, and he does, breathing out deeply and leaning his elbows on the row before him so he can rest his head on his arms and look at nothing for a minute.

“You sure you’re okay? Want me to call for some help?”

“I’ll be okay. Just… a long day. Th-thank you for your kindness in helping me.” That’s the right thing to say, right? One haunting experience and he forgets all his training? Who is this guy and why’s he even here? No one comes to church this late at night if they aren't lost or seeking solace.

Lea finds strength in that—in connecting with his purpose. He manages to look over at the guy. “How can I help you, my child?”

“Uh… I’m okay. I just came in here to get out of the rain. Hope that’s okay. You look like you were closing. Sorry for barging in.”

‘Ahhh, so that's it,’ Lea thinks. “The church is always open to those in need, and anyone caught out in this rain qualifies as being in need.” Lea smiles. It hurts to look at the other man. The black eye is like a punch to the gut and makes bile rise into his throat.

“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry for making your floors all wet.” The man is dripping water everywhere. It runs from his plastered down hair, down his brows and nose, and drips from his chin. His clothes are saturated as well and a puddle forms under his sodden shoes.

So that’s the culprit. Will the floors dry themselves? They better. He’s done. But where’re his manners? “Let me get you a towel.”

“Oh, no. Don't trouble yourself. I’ll be out of here when the rain eases up a bit.”

That’s a relief. Lea relaxes in his seat… as much as he can. Pew’s are the worst thing to sit on. “And where are you in such a hurry to get to on a night like this? You said you were new in town? Sit.” Lea scooches over and makes space on the pew. He’s got to get to the bottom of this.

“Oh, no. I wouldn't want to get the seat wet.”

“It’s fine. They could probably do with a bit of cleaning anyway.” He smiles. Just because it hurts and is weird doesn't mean he can't be welcoming to this stranger. He really is a stranger, right? Or is this one of those ‘amnesia’ cases? His heart aches thinking about it.

“Okay, thanks.” The man takes a seat and unzips his jacket. He’s got an oddly shaped hard-shell leather case under there which he carefully puts on the pew in the space between them. He peels his jacket off as he talks, “I’m here to visit my grandma.”

“What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”

“Oh, you definitely would. Her name’s Madge Monroe.”

“Ahh, Madge. Yes. Avid bridge player at the Tuesday night socials. Devoted church-goer. She always sits closest to the center aisle, second row from the front.” Lea points. 

“She loves church.”

Lea nods. “Are you here for a social visit?”

The man shrugs. “I haven't seen her in years. I was thinking of staying a while. See if she needs anything.”

Lea’s never known Madge to need anything or anyone other than her own company and the extracurricular activities she enjoys. Maybe this means this man will move on quickly. “She’ll be pleased to see you. Does she know you’re here? You know the way?”

“Yeah. I have the address. Mom rang her to let her know I would be visiting.”

“You came on foot through the park. Did you get here by bus?”

“Yeah.”

“Where did you come from?” he asks more directly. He’s gotta know where this ghost’s come from.

“Grafdale. You probably never heard of it.”

Well, shit. “I have actually. I lived around Erast.”

“Oh really?”

Lea nods. “It’s a long way to come for a visit. You must be exhausted.”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

“Are you alright? Your eye…” Lea points to his own eye for emphasis, getting to the question burning in his soul.

“Oh… that? Does it still look bad? It happened a couple days ago.” 

“It’s… bruised alright.” He can't fight the grimace and has to look away and breathe.

The man clicks his tongue. “Does it look bad enough that my grandma would freak out?”

Lea smirks and sid-eyes the other man. “Maybe.” The casual attitude about the black eye eases the tightness in his chest though it still twists his gut.

“Shit.” The frown turns into a wide-eyed shock. “Sorry.”

Lea waves it away. “God doesn't mind, but don't let Father Ansem hear.”

“He’s still here?”

“Yeah. Do you know him? Does dear old Madge talk about him much?”

“I, uh… remember him from when my mom and I stayed with grandma for like a year. Grandma made us go to church.”

Lea chuckles. “That she would. And yeah, he’s still here. I’m sure he would remember you too. He’s old as the hills with a memory as sharp as a tac. But… your eye?”

“Oh, yeah. That. Someone tried to steal my camera while I was waiting at a bus interchange. I got into a scrap.”

“Looks like you kept your camera.” Lea directs his gaze to the object sitting on the pew between them.

“Yeah. The guy elbowed me in the face—that’s how I ended up with this eye. But he ended up with a lot worse—” Something proud and pompous twitches across the man’s lips. It’s quickly wiped away. “I mean… I got him arrested. That’s all.”

Lea chuckles, already not believing that’s all that happened. “All good. Everything you say to a priest is in strict confidence. You will never be judged. Not by me anyway. God will do that when the time calls for it.”

The man gives a sliver of a smile and the conversation stops. The rain is still coming down hard outside. The wind howls through a gap somewhere in the distance.

Well, this feels awkward. Lea’s just chilling with a phantom of his past. He silently prays for the rain to piss off, but a crack of thunder rumbles in defiance.

‘Fine, God, have it your way.’ Lea turns squarely to look at this guy. His heart skips a beat. He’s the spitting image of Ven. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. What’s he going to talk about? He looks around. “You like photography?” 

“Yeah. I do.”

Like squeezing blood from a stone. Does this guy ever talk more than a couple of words at a time? He recalls Ansem telling him to ask the right questions, or to give something of himself first. “I’ve tried taking photos, but I get more of my fingers in the frame than anything else. So I’ve given up.”

The man chuckles. “You just need to take your time with it and see everything in the frame before pushing the shutter.”

Lea nods. “You don't have anything else with you?” He can’t see any other possessions. “Coming such a long way as you did.”

“Oh, uh… I had a suitcase, but when that guy jumped me and I caught him and took him to security, who then called the police… well… in all that mess I…” He laughs, drawn-out and thin and rubs his face. “Someone stole my suitcase instead.” 

Lea huffs, biting down the sick laugh threatening to bubble up. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Clothes I can replace easy enough. Cameras cost a fortune. And I have my laptop in my backpack, which I still have. I put it in a locker at the bus depot. Didn't want it to get wet.”

“Smart move.”

The conversation lulls again. They sit in silence, listening to the rain. It’s not letting up. The man sighs and looks toward the door. 

Lea feels that acutely. He’d much rather be in bed right about now. “It will ease up with time.”

“It’s getting really late. I probably shouldn't wake my grandma up.”

“You don't think she would be up, worried about you if you don't go to her?”

“With the whole police thing I missed my bus and I’m a day late already anyway. Mom let her know I’d be in later and that I would call her, so she shouldn't be worried.”

“Alright then.” He probably should offer some kind of suggestion. The guy can’t stay in the church all night. It’s cold and drafty. “Well, might I suggest the Kelna Youth Hostel? They’re open until midnight, so you still have an hour to get there. Hopefully the rain will ease before then. And… if all else fails…” is he seriously about to suggest this? ‘Please God, let Roxas decline’, “you are welcome in the rectory. We have a sofa. It’s not the most comfortable for sleeping, but you would fit on it better than I do, so it might be sufficient.”

“Thanks, Father… um…”

“Lea.”

“Thanks, Father Lea.” A weary, but warm smile is given.

If looks could kill… Lea turns away. He gets up. “I’ll resume my duties. Stay here until a time that suits you.”

Lea goes back to work snuffing out candles, picking up litter, and straightening the pews. He also makes sure the holy water is topped up and the incense is ready for tomorrow. As he goes about his work it’s hard not to cast glances over to the church guest. 

Roxas, huh. 

The resemblance is uncanny. Did Ventus have a brother? He never mentioned one. He never mentioned family in Kelna or living in, or passing through Grafdale. From what he was able to get out of the other man, he’s doubtful Roxas has amnesia. A small part of him wishes that he did.

The rain reduces significantly at one point and the man gets up and makes ready to leave. 

Lea calls to him to wait a moment and walks over to him. “While it looks like God is smiling on you and letting you be on your way, I still think you should take this.” He holds out an umbrella. “The hostel is to the left of the church, two blocks up.”

“Oh, thank you.” The man takes the umbrella. “And thanks for the directions. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“I hope to see you in church on Sunday, with our lovely Madge.”

The other man nods and smiles and leaves without another word. Lea stares after where the man disappeared through the door for a long while, unable to shake that face. That eye. He remembers it too vividly: the blood, the crunch of bones, the swollen, disfigured mess. He shuts his eyes. Why did he encourage Roxas to come to church? He hopes he won’t see him, but fears Madge’s tenacity may bring ruin to him.

[bi-bard]

I Know that I've Asked it Before but Please Let the Scale Tip Here in My Favor - Arthur Shelby Imagine [Peaky Blinders]

Title: I Know that I've Asked it Before but Please Let the Scale Tip Here in My Favor

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Child!Reader [about 10]

Based On: Aperture

Word Count: 1,337 words

Warning(s): homelessness, mention of death/violence

Summary: Arthur finds a kid hiding in the shadows of an alley. He never thought that a single act of kindness could lead to anything bigger than that. And yet, he finds himself hoping that he doesn't screw everything up in the long run.

Author's Note: The amount of math that I had to do in order for this story to work... oh my god.

Part Two of "July" [Release Date: 7/26/2023]

Part Three of "July" [Release Date: 7/28/2023]

YEARBOOK - SLEEPING AT LAST WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

---------------------

Misfortune seemed to trace the streets of Birmingham.

Those that seemed to escape such a path were only focused on the conditions of those less fortunate than them when it was convenient. Not much different than most places in the world, but that didn't make it much better.

(Y/n) hadn't been merely caught by the path of misfortune; they had been born in it. There was little hope of them getting out of that circle. It was a fact that they had been all too aware of since they could comprehend the world around them. That little hope only got squashed further when they were suddenly left completely alone.

They were young, but they felt as if they were nothing more than an infant when their mother leaves them behind for the first time.

It was cold. (Y/n) tried to be grateful that it wasn't raining, but that did nothing to stop the chill creeping through their jacket that was close to falling apart.

They were curled up in a corner, knees as close to their chest as possible. They wanted to close their eyes and relax, but they couldn't. They couldn't let themself be so vulnerable.

"Hey!"

(Y/n) almost jumped out of their skin when they heard someone shout. They looked up to see a man some distance away, looking at them. Fearing the worst, as they had learned to, (Y/n) let one hand move slowly, going for the shard of glass that would have to work until they could get their hands on a real weapon.

"What are you doing down here," the man asked, starting to walk closer. "Go home!"

(Y/n) didn't respond, instead sticking out their arm as the man moved. The man looked down at the piece of glass. (Y/n) could have sworn that he scoffed.

"Come on, you can't sit here, you're gonna scare away business," the man insisted. "Go."

"No."

"Excuse me? It wasn't a suggestion, kid. Go home."

"No."

"Listen, kid. I don't care what your parents did that was so fucking unfair that you wanted to hide out here, but I can't have a fucking kid hiding out here. You have to go."

"I can't."

"Your legs aren't broken."

"I don't have anywhere else to go!"

The man's eyebrows furrowed. "Where are your parents?"

"I only had my mom." (Y/n) never wanted to disclose this much of their personal history to some stranger, but they didn't have much of a choice now. "She got sick. They wouldn't even let me see her before she died!"

The man paused.

(Y/n) could see the gears in his head moving. They wanted to know what he was thinking. They wanted to understand the paths that his thoughts went along. All they could do in that moment was hold on a little tighter to the broken bottle.

"Come on," the man muttered, nodding toward the building. (Y/n) didn't move. The man turned around again. "You want some food or not?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Fine, stay out here-"

"Wait!" (Y/n) scrambled from their place on the ground. They shoved their broken bottle into their jacket just in case. "Who are you?"

"Name's Arthur Shelby."

That made (Y/n) fight the urge to freeze where they were. Of course, they knew who the Shelbys were. Only a fool wouldn't.

"Come on," he held the door to the pub open so (Y/n) could walk inside. They were directed to a small room in the corner. "Wait there."

"I'm (Y/n)," they called just before he could step out. "(Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"Don't really need to know, kid," Arthur shrugged before stepping back outside.

(Y/n) sat at the small table. They were silent, taking the time to take in the appearance of the room. There were three walls separate from the two that were shared with the outside of the building. There was this fogged glass in the potential windows.

(Y/n) wondered about the purpose of the room. The reputation of the Peaky Blinders caused a thousand ideas to cross (Y/n)'s mind. All of them were what one would expect from a child who had only heard stories from their parents. Like the Boogeyman.

Arthur came back a little while later and set a bowl and a spoon were placed in front of (Y/n).

There were a few minutes before (Y/n) grabbed the spoon and dragged the bowl over to them.

"How long have you been on the street," Arthur asked.

"A few months," (Y/n) confessed between bites of food.

"Months?"

They nodded to him. "Hasn't been so bad. Most people feel bad for a little kid on the streets."

"You had a broken bottle as a weapon-"

"I said most, not all. Some people see a kid as an easy target."

Arthur took a deep breath and let the kid eat without another interruption. Much like he had been outside, he was running through all of the choices he had.

He could let this be a singular act of kindness. Shove the kid out after they were done, tell them to never look at or for him and to never tell anyone else about that day, and finally go on about his life.

Or he could help. He could help the little kid that had been curled up in the alley. The kid with no future, no one waiting for them, and nothing to lose other than their life. Arthur knew the cruelty of this city. Hell, he was a reason why it was so cruel.

A heavy sigh escaped him as the kid finally set down the spoon. "You got a place to go? Anywhere at all?"

The kid shook their head.

"Any family at all?"

Again, the kid shook their head. "My mom ran to Birmingham to find a new life. A better life. She left everyone else behind and wouldn't tell me where they were."

There was a long pause. "You'll stay with me."

"Why," the kid asked.

"Because you'll get killed out there. Very least I can do is teach you how to fight."

"You want me to stay and learn from the Peaky Blinders?"

"Yeah, sure, call it that."

"Does that mean that I'm part of the gang?!"

"Woah, woah, calm down," Arthur motioned for the kid to bring down their obvious excitement. "I never said that and don't go around saying that I did. I am making sure that you don't get yourself murdered, got it?"

"Got it!"

"Good. Make sure you're finished. We're leaving as soon as I get back."

Arthur made it seem like he was stepping out to talk to someone important. Instead, he was stepping out to figure out when his mouth had decided to run so far ahead of his brain.

He had no right dragging this kid into this life. They would better off if he had told them to run off.

Arthur was a mess. He never wanted to speak about it, but it doesn't mean that he never recognized it. Beyond just his work with the Peaky Blinders, he had a host of problems that would likely do nothing other than ruin this kid's life.

But now, he had promised to protect this kid for some unknown period of time.

It was mad. Every moment of it.

If he had watched someone like him do this, he'd laugh in their face.

An idiot. That's what he was.

However, even if he was entirely aware of such a fact, he couldn't stop it. All he could do was stand there and think of the thousand ways that this could all go wrong.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. No one would call him a holy man, by any means, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.

He pleaded for a little mercy. Not for him or his actions, but for (Y/n). For their sake. Their future. Their life.

The chances felt slim. Impossible, even. But he still tried.

He stood there and begged to not mess this up... not completely, at least.

---------------------

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[thessalian]

Thess vs Why We Fight

Another one from the bowels of Reddit, mostly because it's interesting.

There's a subreddit - r/antijob - that I follow mostly to keep track of real people's experiences in the workplace other than my own. And there was a post where the question was asked, "Why do you do more than the bare minimum?" That was the title, anyway. While the question was genuine, it was also at least half a lead-in to "If you're not stealing time back from the company that abuses you for too little pay, you're doing it wrong".

Thing is ... I had an answer. And that answer is: "I do it for the patients".

Yes, I complain a lot about how much I'm being taken advantage of by my colleagues. How management is allowing and in fact encouraging me to torture myself by taking on overtime that Occupational Health has told me I should not be doing. But the thing is ... I could technically just ... not do it. I could say, "Fuck it; you're on your own". And I probably would, except for the fucking patients.

See, I type histology reports for a living. And while some of those are absolutely routine, bog-standard stuff that shouldn't be an issue ... a lot of them aren't. They don't take out your tonsils or appendix or gallbladder unless there's something wrong. They certainly don't take off your breasts or cut out your kidneys or segments of your fucking intestines unless there's something wrong. They don't stick needles in you to take pieces of your liver or your prostate or your lungs or that weird lump on your breast, or cut off bits of skin because that mole just doesn't look right ... unless there's something potentially wrong. Nine times out of ten, they're looking for cancer.

Now, I know a lot about cancer. I've worked a few oncology departments in my time. And the main thing I know is that you have to catch it early. The sooner you catch it, the sooner it can be treated, and the sooner it's treated, the better the odds that you'll get full remission. More to the point, if you delay any of that, it might spread to another part of the body and then the odds of the patient's survival just drop into the sub-basement. The first step to catching it? Getting histology results to the right people. And even though I only do the macroscopic reports and not the microscopic ones that let you know whether a thing's malignant or not, they can't authorise a report without that information on the damn form. So, in my own small way, I am helping to save lives. That is why I do what I do. That's why I couldn't really hack anything that wasn't directly medical. Arranging the diary of the head of the Royal College of General Practitioners or handling submissions to a medical journal? Eh, I could do it, but it wasn't satisfying. I want to be helping. I want my job to mean something. And mine does.

So I answered the Reddit post with that very fact. And I got, "Well, it wouldn't be your fault if things got delayed; it'd be the boss' fault for not hiring more staff". And thankfully someone else got in before me with the reply of, "Yeah, and Thess is going to feel so much better about a patient potentially dying, potentially painfully, just because it's not technically their fault, even though they could have done something? Have some fucking empathy!" From what I can tell, half the people who read that remark of mine think I'm a hero, and the other half think I'm a doormat. I dunno; maybe both, maybe neither. I just know that reports need doing ASAP because sometimes, even a few days makes a difference.

I don't think my colleagues understand that. I don't think my colleagues let themselves understand that. They just look at it as, "They dictate, I type". I never forget that the tissue those doctors were cutting up and poking at while dictating this stuff was fairly recently attached to and/or inside of a human being, and the fact that they're getting bits cut off or out means, as I said above, that there is something potentially wrong. Best case scenario? Everything's fine, and the patient gets relief from the stress of potentially being sick a little sooner. Worst case scenario? There is a problem and the report gets to the right people quicker, and the patient stands a better chance of surviving it. Either way, it's important. What we do is important.

So I guess it's not even just work ethic, although that's a good-sized part of it. Most of all, it's making a difference, in a small way that might become something huge. And that's why I work three hours of overtime when we're this swamped.

...I just hate that my empathy and general humanity is being taken advantage of by lazy bints who only see it as "it's just a job; do the bare minimum".

[innerchorus]

Gurgin for the ask game, pick and choose whatever numbers you want! It's a free-for-all! :D

I probably am gonna ask you about Shapur, Isfan, and Kubard later too because of course I am

I said I wanted to answer every question for him and I wasn't lying. Thank you for enabling me! (Ask game post is here, for anyone else who wants to send something in / reblog it themselves. I have a few others to answer already which I'll get too asap now this post is done, but feel free to send in more!).

My first impression of them

Just one of a handful of evil masked guys. Best mask design by a long way, though.

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like)

I first got curious about him when I read about his backstory and found out about his shared past with Farangis. Honestly I'm not quite sure how I got to the point where I love him as fiercely as I do now, but I know I started shipping him with Zandeh after seeing art by @strangeshipper and it built from there. I don't know. I just find him really interesting.

3. A song that reminds me of them

I know I've mentioned You Are The Blood by Sufjan Stevens before, but also Don't Worry, We'll Be Watching You by Gotye (POV: you are being recruited by Team Zahhak).

4. How many people I ship them with

Always with Zandeh. OTP status for sure. I have considered other stuff (such as the Zandeh/Gurgin/Parizad OT3) though. And Hilmes/Gurgin in Mage Hunt AU. And if anyone wants to suggest other ships for him, I'm listening.

5. My favorite ship of them

Zandeh/Gurgin, obvious answer is obvious.

6. My least favorite ship of them

I don't know whether anyone actually ships it but Gurgin/the Master.

I won't lie, it's crossed my mind, but my headcanon is primarily that although the Master was once interested in stuff like that he's been alive for so long that he doesn't really have those sorts of urges any more (overlaps a bit with my thoughts on how the type of magic that Team Zahhak use might affect sexual desire, I don't think I've directly mentioned that before but the basic concept is that it can warp it from its baseline just as it warps their bodies, and results vary from person to person, but it's quite common for it to be either dulled or switched off completely and kind of goes hand in hand with the headcanon that their magic renders them sterile).

Gurgin in Sacrifice AU falls into that category, he doesn't completely lack interest but his focus is dominated by his work for Team Zahhak and by the time the AU picks up his story afterwards he's also underweight and depressed so his sex drive is basically 0. And then he meets Zandeh, and gets better, and realises what it's like to want someone so badly you can't think of anything else, lmao

(My headcanons for Gurgin vary a bit in this respect depending on the AU, though. There's probably an AU out there where his desire never returns or he never had any in the first place but even in that case I still see him and Zandeh as life partners and feel they'd work it out somehow.)

7. A quote of them that you remember

What he says when he's rallying his comrades at the end of Book 7 after their Master is (temporarily...) killed: "Let those who do not respect the Snake King Zahhak boast of their victory! Three years, just three years is enough. At that time, they will fall from the peak of joy to the bottom of the valley of despair. The higher they climb, the further they fall!"

It's primarily the last line that sticks in my mind. If I ever make the Gurgin playlist that I daydream about so often, I'd definitely title it 'The Further They Fall'. Anyway, that's actually the last line of dialogue from the final scene of Book 7 (the last book before the timeskip). A very ominous way for it to end, right?

8. Your favorite outfit of them

He has One Outfit. (He would've worn something different when he was a trainee priest, but there's no description of it. A manga flashback to that time feels much less likely now, but you never know, maybe Arakawa will decide to reveal a little of Farangis's backstory before the end… my one hope…)

9. Your least favorite outfit of them

One Outfit, and I love it so no complaints. But I wish Arakawa had planned to adapt the second half so I could see him getting drenched by the rain in Soleimaniye.

10. Describe the character in one sentence

My blorbo who did lots of things wrong.

11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

Huh, this question made me realise that in the mental picture of Gurgin that first pops up when I think of him, he's not wearing his mask. His hood is up, though, and he's in Team Zahhak black. Maybe it's because I've been thinking about the Magical Healing AU more recently, where his appearance is often like this.

12. Sexuality hc!

He doesn't waste much time thinking about it, but he's mainly into men. However, I do headcanon that he had a crush on Farangis when he was young.

13. Your favorite friendship they have

This question makes me sad because I don't see him as someone who's ever had many friends. I don't think his peers at the temple liked him that much (though honestly I think he probably felt quite indifferent about this). There were a handful of other trainees he spent time with, but his closest friends were probably his brother and Farangis. There's certainly no real evidence of friendship between any of the Team Zahhak disciples.

He deserves more than having one-sided conversations with winged apes! Was that mainly for exposition purposes in canon? Perhaps, but it's also a result of a lack of human contact — the novel makes it clear that the mages feel loneliness as their numbers dwindle, and at that point Gurgin is operating alone and hasn't heard from his remaining comrades for a while.

(He absolutely does talk to Hamkar from time to time in Sacrifice AU before Zandeh arrives on the scene, too.)

14. Best storyline they had

Is there anything about his canon trajectory that I really wanna label 'best' lmao? I mean, I wish things had turned out different for him but I do find his loss of faith / corruption arc interesting. Though that's because I also love to think about a future for him where that all gets reversed.

15. Worst storyline they had

His involvement with what went down in Oxus, probably. Oof.

16. A childhood headcanon

You know, I haven't spent much time thinking about what his childhood was like (aside from Mage Hunt AU specifics that differ from whatever a general /baseline headcanon would be). I guess the only thing I feel certain of is that he and his brother had no other siblings, and whatever region they grew up in didn't have much to offer in terms of creating a better life for themselves, and that's why they ended up at the Temple of Mithra in Khuzestan. (Tentative headcanon is that he grew up in / near the Nimruz mountains.)

Aghriras entered the priesthood because of ambition, and that reasoning makes sense for Gurgin, too (they're azat, freeborn commoners aka the lowest social class above slaves, and if they want to climb above the few opportunities that affords to them then it's either joining the priesthood or proving their merit on the battlefield) but I do think that to a certain extent Gurgin followed his brother.

lmao I can feel a backstory headcanon forming even as I type this.. like, what if their father died or left them when they were young (Gurgin probably doesn't remember him much) and they were raised by their mother, who wanted them to have a better life than she had? She wouldn't have wanted them to face the horrors of war, so she encouraged them to work hard on their education so that they could find their place in the priesthood. Perhaps she, too, had passed away by the time they left for the temple, so at that point they only had each other. I feel like Gurgin didn't have any close family after his brother died.

Oh no Gurgin, are you desperate for recognition from your Master because you never had a father figure? Fuck.

17. What do you think their first word was?

Eh, probably some variation of 'brother' or 'mother' (with the headcanon above). I feel like most first words are… not that interesting.

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc)

Curious and intelligent! Asked a lot of questions. Easily frustrated when things didn't go his way. I imagine at school he had trouble making friends as he both sought approval from his teachers and thought himself superior to others who were not as clever as him, plus he could be impatient with others. (He was, in general, a bit better about all of this at the time he joined the priesthood, but when he's with Team Zahhak all those negative traits are brought to the fore.)

19. The most random ship you've seen people have with them

Well, I'm not sure this really counts but sometimes I'll ask my boyfriend really weird ArSen questions out of the blue, and recently I asked him "give me a Gurgin ship" and usually when it's something like that he'll try and pick something at random that he thinks I won't like… He said Gurgin/Farangis.

(No, he didn't remember that they knew each other. And I can't think of a way this would work but it sure gave me a whirlwind of feelings to think about. The thought of something happening between them because of shared grief, years after they last saw each other? It's so angsty and messy. If something did happen I think Gurgin would feel immensely guilty for it, but I'm not sure about Farangis. I feel like she might be able to compartmentalise it as something that happened that shouldn't have done, and move on. She'd handle it better than Gurgin, at any rate.)

Wait, my Hilmes/Gurgin ship is pretty random I suppose? Think of that as an alternate answer. Zandeh/Gurgin probably qualifies too given that they don't ever meet in canon, but I can't see it that way now, not after spending so much time thinking about them together.

I've also had very vague thoughts of yeeting Gurgin back into the past, but would I ship him with anyone in that circumstance? Eh, not sure.

20. A weird headcanon

I'm sure I have many! The 'he likes hot baths' headcanon is a pretty random one that came from 1. reading that the real Mount Damavand has some pretty nice hot springs near it (which in ArSen verse are probably disgusting bubbling sulphurous poison mud pits but whatever), and 2. the fact that he probably had a bad time during the flooding of the Dark Temple and it amuses me to imagine him enjoying water in a different context? I just want to let him relax from time to time? He works hard, he deserves it.

I want to write a bath scene for him in Interlude (Magical Healing AU). Or I keep thinking about a comedy scene of him at one of Ecbatana's bath houses with a gaggle of bird-faced beasts for company, because it amuses me.

Here's another headcanon: he's pretty bad at archery. It was taught at the temple, but it didn't interest him much and he wasn't that motivated to work on his skills, even though Farangis tried to instruct him. As far as weapons go, later on he uses a Team Zahhak-typical knife, which he wears strapped to a thigh like Farangis. (He still has it in Sacrifice AU! Chekhov's Snake Knife lmao.)

21. When do you think they were at their happiest?

When he was at the temple with Farangis and his brother, before things went wrong. Other than that, he was pretty fucking ecstatic in Book 16 when the Master said that he would be his successor (disregarding the fact that it's because there is literally nobody else left at that point lmao). I'm not sure I believe the Master was ever planning on stepping aside, but whatever.

22. When do you think they were at their lowest?

After his brother's death.

23. Future headcanon

The whole of Sacrifice AU, I guess. Just anything where he makes it out of Team Zahhak and tries to lead a different life.

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone?

I love this question. I wouldn't necessarily know the answer for every character but I do have a headcanon for this for Gurgin, and that is that no matter how vehemently he protested his brother's innocence, a small part of him wondered whether Aghriras really had done it. I don't think he'd ever admit that to anyone (except perhaps to Zandeh in Mage Hunt AU, where Gurgin's backstory adjustment gives him very good reason to hope that Aghriras had killed that particular person). The fact that Aghriras's innocence was later proven only makes it much worse.

25. When do you think they acted the most ooc

I don't think any of his canon scenes are OOC? Is that what this question is asking? I may not like what he does, but none of it feels unbelievable.

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

Maybe I'm picking this just because it's before he went down a dark path, but I think the conversations he used to have with his brother back when they were at the temple are pretty typical of his true self. The little flashback conversation we get in particular gives the impression of someone who's curious about stuff he maybe shouldn't be, and is attracted to power, but it also shows that he was willing to listen to his brother's guidance. I don't think he'd have ended up with Team Zahhak if his brother had lived.

Otherwise, his Book 16 decisions that get him killed are unfortunately also peak Gurgin, at least in his Team Zahhak era.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

Either (or both) of the Devil Forgemasters from Castlevania, 100%.

28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?

Killing the dog at the temple. Or lashing out and cutting off the hind legs of a winged ape (a creature that is on his side, and under his command!) when his plans started to go wrong in Book 13.

29. How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?)

Honestly, not great but not as bad as he might think. But it's not something he wants. Thoughts of having a family aren't really on his mind (except for AU instances where he's worried it's something Zandeh might want that he won't be able to provide).

30. The funniest scene they had?

Okay, Gurgin's not actually present in this scene but it's hilarious to me so I'm choosing it: after the winged ape attack on Soleimaniye in Book 13 was thwarted, Kubard and Narsus are discussing what happened. They don't know that Gurgin was the one in charge, but Narsus's opinion is that it couldn't have been Ilterish (the usual commander of the demon army) because Ilterish would've done a better job, lmao. Sorry Gurgin but your inexperience is showing.

Anyway, that's the end of the questions! Not sure how many people are interested enough in Gurgin to make it this far, but like... if anyone does want to talk about Gurgin with me... my inbox is always open...

[baeddel]

i find that i read textbooks a lot slower, struggle with them more, and end up failing to complete my goals with them more often than i do anything else, like a paper or a book. why should that be the case when they're supposed to be teaching material?

here is one parsimonious reason: why do you read a textbook? it's because you don't know anything about the topic. you're a total beginner, so the topic is inherently harder to understand, you have less of a knowledge base for the things you learn to find their place in.

that's probably true. but i think there is another reason. here is my other reason: when you read a paper, you have a bunch of techniques that help you read a paper. first of all you can skim the paper and get the idea. that might be all you need to do. but if you decide it's worth doing you can scratch at it a little more. you might read the introduction and conclusion, for example. and then you get the idea of the argument, and you decide if you ever need to see the working out you can come back to it. but even if you read the whole thing from start to finish there are a lot of parts you're going to skip and say 'alright, i get the idea.'

with a book (or a thesis) all of this is true, but there are even more advantages: first of all, it has a table of contents at the start. if the chapters are titled correctly then you can get a very good idea what the whole book is about just looking at the chapters. here's a marvelous one, from Jennifer Liu's thesis the Problem of Philosophy in Classical Chinese Thought:

just the first handful of chapters. look at that! you get the problem right away: the term 'philosophy' has a specific origin, it's not clear how we can apply it across cultures, so we're going to look at how people from that culture translated that term and find an argument there. now you can just hop into 0.2.2 to see the ending if you don't have time to read the rest.

a table of contents that is less detailed but still useful, from Kenneth Clatterbaugh's the Causation Debate in Modern Philosophy 1637-1739:

if you took out the page numbers you could make this figure 1, 'timeline of the modern causation debate', and it acts as a useful point of reference if you want to dip in and out.

plus some books will have an index at the back so you can find particular terms easily and things like that. now look at my phonology textbook, Bruce Hayes' Introductory Phonology:

"More on Phonemes" and "Phonological Alternation II" are almost as helpful as "Features." but what are you going to call them? you can find better ones than this, but sometimes this is the best you can do. you're not making an argument, you're teaching information, so the Phonetics chapter is just the Phonetics chapter. it has all the Phonetics stuff thats in the book. go read it.

so basically it's impossible to know what shortcuts to take with a textbook when you're self-studying. classes that use textbooks (which i can snoop on via things like MIT Open Courseware, or when students i talk to show me their class syllabus—thanks girl reading this!) will generally call out a handful of specific chapters or even just a couple of pages and tell you to read those. the teacher will frame the textbook content with the discussion in class and only give you the important parts to read. they can do that becuase they already know the textbook. when you're reading on your own you can't possibly know which parts are going to be useful yet, so you just have to read it front to back. which is hard, boring, and not usually worth doing, so i never end up sticking with them.

[tetrakys]

this was never in the history of forever ever gonna happen and i understand why it didn't and why it won't but i would've died 1000 deaths for a male mc in mcl. not even just in new gen, i would've loved to be gay asf in hsl, ul and ll too:') this isn't like a critique or anything but a guy can dream right😂😂?

lol anyway, just wondering if maybe you have any recs for otome with male/gn mc? or if not if you know someone who might? mcl is the only one I've ever gotten really into so i don't know about any other games like it 🙃

I'm sorry, friend. I really wish you and everyone were able to play the game as you wish and wouldn't have to "adapt" to what is available. Unfortunately some features like a male MC or multiple f/f routes are too expensive for a small company like Beemoov.

Tbh I haven't seen many otome games with a male MC around, otome by definition have female protagonists. There are lots of BL games around though (BL = boys love) where the MC is gender locked as male and all the crushes are male. I've never played one so I can't recommend any but if you look for BL games I'm sure you're going to find a ton!

Other than BL/yaoi games, there are games with no visuals of the MC so you can assume they are whatever gender you prefer (oten they let you choose pronouns). Generally these games have no illustrations or they do but only show the crushes alone without the MC. A few names I can think of are Arcana, Obey Me, Touchstarved (only the demo is out at the moment), When The Night Comes and other games from the same company (iirc there was some drama around it but I'm not informed). Again, take a look around because there are many! I think these games are generally referred to as Amare games, because they have the same formula of otome games but aren't strictly aimed at a female audience.

The only otome game with visuals I can think of which attempted to have both female and male MC and also multiple routes (5 male and 5 female) is Sweet Elite. However, I would say that it failed in this attempt, because in 12 episodes of the first season, there is only one episode with 1-1 illustrations with the crushes, then there is one episode where there are illustrations of the crushes alone, and everything else is group illustrations, max 2 or 3 per episode. (To me it ended up feeling more like a friendship game than a romance game.)

So, clearly, it's even more proof that when games have a big visual component and also offer customisation, it's basically impossible to have two genders MC. Unless it's a huge company producing them, but I'm not even sure that's the case because Is It Love? games for example were produced by Ubisoft and they didn't even offer look customisation, let alone gender customisation.

Another suggestion I can give you, is to check out mobile apps such as Chapters, Choices and Episodes. These aren't exactly otome games, but more similar to romance books translated as games. They have huge libraries and several titles are either gender locked yaoi or you can pick your own gender. You can even customise the looks of the MC and the crushes, but of course there are no CGs.

Oh, and one last thing that comes to mind, another option for you could be to check out dating app simulation games, basically fake tinder apps, they have lots of crushes each one with their own story, you can choose pronouns but your avatar will never appear in game or in CGs. A few names I remember are MeChat, Love Link, Love Verse, but I'm sure there are more. The stories can be quite entertaining so I suggest you check them out. (I remember MeChat had both a Lysander and a Castiel lookalikes).

So really, there are SO MANY games around that there's no need to stick to one where we have to adapt to game features we don't like. Ultimately MCL's main target audience are straight, cis women (with a very small offering of f/f routes) and I wouldn't stick to it if I weren't one. I remember when I started playing 11 years ago and I was looking for more games in a language I could understand and I could find very little, now instead there's so much competition that there's something for literally everyone.

Good luck with your search, let me know if you find anything you like! 💕

[thefirstknife]

Following up on the ask about the Titan supers, going for the fantasy expectation question specifically- Titans are, thematically, front-line tacticians. People throw around Spartan, Paladin, Soldier, titles like that. What bungie seems to see them as is a big gorilla, or the Hulk, and I feel that does a disservice to the actual characterization of the class. Even if it does different things in gameplay, debuffing for example, running around punching is creatively boring. I'd like a utility supe

The problem is, how do you translate "front-line tactician" into a playable ability? A tactician is someone who makes plans to execute a strategy. Titans are well known to be able to make plans, both ahead of time and on the go, as well as improvise in the heat of battle, but that is simply incredibly metaphysical to make first person shooter gameplay out of.

As an example, would I like if, as a Titan, I could use destructible environment to quickly create a throwing melee or super? Sure. A game where a piece of concrete can be destroyed and then you can pick it up and use it to throw it at enemies or create a temporary barricade or do whatever else you might come up with to simulate a front-line tactician would be unfathomably cool. And also impossible to do in Destiny as it exists right now.

We can extend that to other classes as well. Warlocks are scholars and students of the arcane space magics and should be able to specialise in specific fields and then weave them as they see fit in millions of different ways, but instead their supers are; throw void orb, throw void orb but it tracks, you are void orb, solar sword on fire, solar sword on fire in the ground, electric fingers, electric beam and stick.

Hunters are supposed to be agile scouts and explorers who trek the wilderness and map the unknown, but I'm forced into known missions with fireteams instead of having an open world to map out alone for others. My supers are gun with three bullets, gun with six bullets, knives, bow with one shot, bow with three shots, knives, spin stick, throw stick and tornado.

There's very obviously a limit to what the class is in lore and setting and what it can be in gameplay. I totally understand the disappointment about the new super being seemingly "the same" as the last one ("element on fists, punch"), but I feel like a lot of the complaints and demands are quite literally impossible and unreasonable. And some of the complaints can be applied to other two classes as well.

I think it's good to tell Bungie that we would like more variety in supers, especially as it pertains to their viability in various content. I would 100% love for an additional super for stasis and strand and for Titans to have more ranged options because in a lot of cases you can't really get close range to enemies. Stomps, pushback, environmental hazards and other issues limit what we can use melee abilities for.

Obviously I've not played the strand stuff so I'm working with what we've been told and shown, but I think it's fairly obvious that strand IS a utility super. It's the most utility since void and overshield; strand not only gives you and your teammates damage reduction, but also controls the battlefield by suspending enemies. Like, by all accounts strand is a utility subclass with a lot of debuffing and buffing options and movement utilities.

I also think it's reductive to say that the new strand super is just "gorilla." It really isn't. I am not aware of gorillas being able to control the battlefield by suspending enemies in the air and locking down a whole section while empowering allies with damage reduction utilities. And being able to control the battlefield and empower your allies while you plan out your attack and dish out damage is, quite literally, a tactician move.

I think both Behemoth and Berserker are much closer to the front-line tactician fantasy since void. If anything is "gorilla" it's Fists of Havoc. A lot of people shit on Behemoth but if you really want utility and being able to perform multiple tasks at once with your super, Behemoth is one of the things to pick. Need to kill enemies? Got it. Need to freeze them while you deal with something else? Got it. Need to block off an area? Got it. Need to create barricades for your team? Got it. Your team needs overshield which you can give them by making stasis shards with your super? Got it. The problems with Behemoth not being used much are with a completely different section of issues, which is activity, encounter and enemy designs.

If Berserker is truly similar in any way, then it's in this this way imo, as it gives you options to use your super in different ways for different purposes depending on what you need. Like a tactician. I think people are way too focused on the idea that you use your fists and not at all focusing on the actual utility and options of the super. Though obviously if someone just isn't vibing with it, it's not something that people can change.

[slayerfruit]

Thinking about metaphysical-shenanigans. Share my burden, please. Or don't.

Like, people like milk right? People like drinking from the tap right? Cool fetish thing? So, let's say, hypothetically,

---

You hook up with a Nature god, perhaps. Honorary, Given, Birthed as, it doesn't really matter. Shit, titles are made by popular consensus anyway, could be a robot, could be golem out of literal stone. All that matters is that you have a really, really good night with this other person, intimate if not sexual, and you at one point, intentionally or not, latch onto a breast.

At the time? It would not have occurred to you that anything was amiss. It leaked when you latched on, sure. And you maybe took just a few swigs from the source while you were there, they weren't stopping you or anything. But it didn't stick out much, in the moment. You pulled back, and tried something else, and the night continued. Simple as.

It wouldn't be, though. I mean, the whole "Nature god" thing? Comes with some special parameters. It's a little different in each case, sure, but at the end of the day it is inherently... Supportive, for lack of better words. The god thrives, and so too does what their domain encompasses. And in a lot of ways it's really subtle! Most titles aren't carried by the divine anyway, and thus don't carry much power.

...But they fit really well, god or not. Their title loves them. And well... It turns out latching on like that however briefly, maybe, kinda sorta, addedyoutotheirdomain. Just a little.

And again, in the moment you wouldn't have noticed. But after you headed home the next day? While you were heading there, in fact? You realized, really couldn't help but realize: the nip was still in your mouth. You could still feel it, even if none of your other senses chipped in. You could close your mouth, talk, eat, didn't matter. The feeling persists. The possibility of drinking from it has been anchored into you. If you focus, if you suck at nothing? It'll leak right into you.

We can route any number of ways from here. But personally, I prefer one that's simple in its execution: You just drink from it, every once in a while.

Every other meal, whenever you don't have water on hand, maybe you realize that with a little more attention you can fill nearby containers and then you cook with it. Just a little bit, every once in a while. But "once in a while" keeps increasing. It's whole milk. You have what feels like a near infinite tap. On demand.

You were bound to get a little too used to it.

The thing about it is, it would take a while for you to make the connection. Your rate of growth is a inevitable increase, but your rate of consumption does manage the rate. It could take while still before you realize, after outgrowing the largest thing you currently have, after your chairs start breaking, after your meals gain seconds and thirds, to realize that you might need to rein it back. Just a little.

Even if you do? Won't matter. You've been stimulating those breasts constantly. Their production has gone past the roof it was at before. You can stop, and maaaaybe that will work... For like a hour. Any more and you'll realize milk is dripping down your throat even when you aren't drinking. The rate of production is too high. They can't stop anymore.

And shit, you could try a diet. Go off just milk, cutting all other meals out, try exercising if you could even keep it up for enough time to lose a pound. But a nature god nurtures. You can't starve yourself. Enough time spent not "properly" feeding yourself and you'll find yourself pinned to the floor with a milk-filled gut, achingly overfilled and prepped to stand back up again 10 pounds heavier. Your diet is doomed to failure. Even if you start body building, you can't lose weight. More likely then not? You'll just get fatter.

...Anyways, that's enough of that for now.

gsddlxmvdbnxcvmklbfxcmklvnmkxcvmklhklm my god you've melted me with this,, burden is completely shared maybe this would finally convince me to start dieting!! for. completely diet-y reasons. >:] i can just order bigger clothes!! of course, they'd probably only last a day or two, but that's a part of the fun- getting so tight it eventually rips, and realizing just how much bigger i've grown,, gsvcklhcvklh i. uh. go d

[landwriter]

questions for the fanfiction writing asks! 1, 3, 5, 10, 11, 12, 22, 35, 36, 72, 73, 74. (… feel free to only do some if this is too many.)

hahaha i saw '1, 3,' in the preview and thought 'oh I hope there's three questions!' roll you've got mail gif of tom hanks rubbing his hands together and blowing on his fingers:

Gloam's Great Big Writing (W)ramble

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike? I go for it straightaway. When I get an idea and can't exorcise it due to things like Operating A Motor Vehicle it literally just churns inside of me until I can. I wrote 80% of Black Shore as jot notes in a parking lot while eating a burger with one hand. My ideas are less patient than me. which ha ha truly says a lot.

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself? Oh, share for sure. If I ever manage to conceive, draft, and publish a whole entire story without telling anyone about it I want a PRIZE.

How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for? I was like "two! wait three - no, four" anyways I went and looked in my one (1) fic drafting document (clocking in at a healthy 90K lol) and counting everything I've put words down for and intend to put MORE words down for it would be, uh, haha fifteen

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time? I try to only focus on one but right now I have an overgrown drabble and a chapter for Oaths that I both equally want to have been done YESTERDAY so I have been bouncing between them both for a few days. I do think I could really dig doing drabbles THAT BEHAVED THEMSELVES in between longfic chapters though!

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around? In order, but I have no qualms putting [thing happens] and moving on because I already have to consciously try so hard to keep momentum and not constantly faff about with wording as I go. I have slipped up with Oaths a couple times now because there's just SO MUCH to write for it lol

Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them? I was labouring for a while under the delusion I was 'outlining' but I have since realized I am actually just writing fics as fast as possible in a very loose way first before I forget anything, because apparently most outlines do not have, uh enormous chunks of fully-written dialogue, play-by-play actions, and detailed descriptions of scenes and character beats? the only time I do not do this has been prompt fills but it actively makes my brain ache a little to try and remember everything inside my head while my fingers slowly write it in full lol

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles? Titles for canon fics have all come part way through. They just Show Up, and I know it's right when it Feels Right? I like punchy short titles that are outright utilitarian OR that you read after reading the fic and go 'HEY' because it was The Theme All Along. For AUs I am clinically incapable of thinking of them as anything other than 'Descriptor AU' which is why it took me over a week after posting it and two chapters in to title my Tam Lin AU

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted? I am a terrible parent because I was going to say 'I could make a case for any of them' but it's actually any of them except Emissary of the Night. I wish I could even say I feel guilty haha. Nothing against it at all! I'm happy with it and proud of the response it's gotten, I'm just not attached.

What fic are you proudest of? Border Country. No matter what else I write, it will always be Border Country. If I publish a real life novel and it wins awards it will actually, still, be Border Country. And it will be Border Country because that was second story I wrote. Doing something previously unthinkable once is pretty wild. But I have been known to do wild shit! Doing it a second time, consciously, right after the first one went so well that a part of you is saying very persuasive unhinged things like: stop while you're ahead, lightning only strikes once, it likely won't be as good or as well-received and you won't be able to cope with that, better to not find out, don't make people have to humour you, Gloam, that's rude, be satisfied with this alone, was the actual wildest thing I've done. I started writing a second story immediately after Saint Morpheus because the response was overwhelming and incredible, and I knew if I didn't post something again within a week or two that would be the only thing I ever posted, probably. So I wrote Border Country in five days, posted it, felt like I'd defeated a curse, and I am so proud of me for it.

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten? Black Shore getting printed, annotated, filled with marginalia and brilliant analysis, and being written an entire formatted essay in the comments about it. I wept! I literally wept and phoned my best friend about it. Literary analysis is a love language and getting that comment forced me to briefly realize that I am for the first time ever existing on the other side of the medium of written word that I have loved my whole entire life. surreal!! incredible!!

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing? unsure! but I like it the most when people Have Strong Feelings @ me, quote lots of bits and pieces, or make any comment on Themes (see above lmao)

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love? Oaths haha - if you would like my silly rant on Why You Should Check It Out it's here :)

[fanfic writing asks]

[hiddenlife-manager]

Kid with a vampire s/o

Kid x G/n Reader

Buy me a Coffee

Not going to lie totally kind of doesn’t go with the title I just kind of went on a small rant but whatever. It still mentions the vampire part!

~~

-Okay Kid with a vampire s/o started off as a joke. He asked you to join his crew not cause of your fighting skills or anything because you simply fit his aesthetic and the ship's aesthetic. You tend to wear Kuro and Gothic Lolita styles which made him notice you.

-At first that was it he thought you were normal till you avoided leaving for battle during the day. That is where you two just couldn't get along he couldn't kick you out he told you to leave your life and for some reason he couldn't kick you out like he would do to others.

-The moment he finds out why you avoid the sun he is just in shock. He thinks your lying causing another fight. But afterwards after Killer confirms it he'll be fine ish. Still a bitch.

-What made him fall in love with you isn't because of the whole vampire thing because he forgets a lot. He finds it unimportant information after the initial shock. In the end he'll catch himself travelling with you at night.

-You won't ever tell him but he truly is a lost puppy. He goes out drinking with you at a bar and sticks to your side the entire night. That is where everything may go like downhill some places don't understand your sense of style and why your so pale. A natural complexion has come color and pop and all you have is dull pale looking skin.

-Someone mentions that and their head is in fact against the very table. He is protective, like extremely. From the moment you two became a thing the amount of people getting slammed into a table or wall tripled.

-Your eating habits weren't strange either the only thing was that Killer and him go hunting twice as often to keep up with your blood demand. He is also just willing to give his own blood to you. That being said he will make you work for it unless it is a desperate moment where you haven't ate he'll let you drink don't worry he couldn't have you starving.

-Still an asshole. I like to think he is kinder to you but barely ever is he actually. He angers you on a daily, y'all fight a lot and can't even get along. He truly doesn't care if you two are together he won't change for shit.

-In the end you being a vampire means nothing other than late night dates and him having to be by your side. Kid will treat you the same with pure anger and chaotic energy. No one knows your a vampire and if that is the case he'll keep treating you like everyone else. Even if you gets on his nerves.

[ravenadottir]

Who in season 2 do you think the producers made look worse and better? My bet is Hope was made to look evil and Noah was made to look better, even though they both made mistakes, on and off his route.

-💫

oh oh oh!! hold on now, that's a really cool question! i'll say this, some of them were kept for the possibility of drama, and those were gary, bobby, marisol and hannah. i'll go into detail on each section, so let's dive in!

((quick warning, it got long. but what else is new?))

the ones that looked good:

mc is definitely someone with a squeaky clean image despite everything. it doesn't matter what she does (except for cheating with returning!lurik) she always wins! she could go through every guy in the villa and still have a perfect trajectory and win. there's so many opportunities for her to go behind people's backs and that never shows at the finale!

bobby. charming and playful, enough to make people forget the bad things he did in there. operation nope for one! i bet you anything noah spoke to him after the confession but it was never shown, only glossed over by bobby himself. he doesn't go into detail and it the case rests about his participation. producers focused on priya and hope fighting instead of revealing noah's and hope's reactions to bobby's participation. PLUS, if it's not for mc, he doesn't find love! producers kept him because he did some shady stuff and there was a possibility of having more later on.

noah. "the quiet and chill guy". instead of 'player' the title he gets is "struggling", and everything wrong that happens around him is the girls' fault. plus, noah does the kissing too, during casa amor challenges, but when it comes to 'stick or switch' he had to be convinced. GIVE ME A BREAK! he says himself his future was uncertain and that's why he switched, but the focus stays on blake convincing him. PLEASE.

gary. even though he admittedly flirts a lot he's still seen as charming, and all is forgiven too fast. for him to kiss lottie, especially liking mc, and surviving? if anything, he should've been gone along with rocco. "he was just comforting her and it happened." is the theme of the kiss, BUT IT WAS A KISS NONETHELESS! lottie faces the consequences alone. gary gave marisol shit for roccogate but knew he cheated first. it stinks 'selective footage' because i just KNOW marisol confronted him later.

hannah. they focus so much on her tenderness and innocence that you think "what an angel! so unfair! let's bring her back!", only to realize that was the plan all along, to cause drama with mc or lottie. you see, marisol was also kind of a jerk to hannah but she never says a single word about it! isn't it weird? i don't think it's scripted but i do think they said "focus on lottie, the whole marisol thing is played out".

chelsea. they really went for it with the best friend trope and showed her being more supportive than any other islander, even though the other girls can be close to mc, it's never shown properly. she spilled the tea about jo and rahim, gary and lottie, the card with noah's ex's name on it, she celebrates being picked by gary but doesn't blink when sees elijah, she's into her bff's boy when back to the villa, and SOMEHOW manages to survive until the finale. she's the root of like 80% of the conflicts that went down since she got there! producers glossing over the fact that she spilled everything, and cutting to the actual fights was how she was able to stay.

marisol. roccogate aside, the focus of her journey was "poor girl, can't seem to find a genuine connection and that's why she made the mistakes she made" but like... why wasn't she gone? aren't you supposed to clear out if you don't find anyone? her continuous search and the poor girl image were key for her to stay. she even gets first pick on a boy's recoupling! we know it's because of mc, on her route, but if not on her route, there's no point for marisol to stay for so long. unless they were hoping for more drama, and i think their disappointment was tremendous.

the ones that looked bad

i agree with you about hope! when she said "they don't see everything" it's so meta because us, the players, as main characters also don't see everything! hope is perceived as possessive and controlling but... she didn't do anything wrong! she just reacted to what happened! other people got away with being shady but she gets the heat for reacting as ahuman being. PLEASE!

priya. we don't know whose idea was, but it's implied operation nope was a mutual effort between her and bobby, then yet all the blame falls on her. mc could participate and knew, bobby planned, ibrahim and marisol knew about it but didn't say anything. priya took the L and despite mentioning she had amazing talks with mc, nothing was ever shown. the producers decided to leave them out because they needed a scapegoat. priya's move was played out and that's why she got eliminated.

villa!lurik. for one, all the boys performed those dares, and both villas had the same challenges so we had more than one kiss happening there, but for some reason only villa!lurik is villainized about it. we never get the scoop of what made them choose blake and all we're left with is a cookie cutter apology. i really think the boys might've said something to mc, or to each other about what happened but it never made the cut because drama.

blake. yes she was unbearable, but if you treat her nicely, she's also nice. the thing is how she comes across despite those things. everyone does shady stuff but because she was a casa amor girl everyone bashes on her. shannon doesn't get the same heat, even when you're on rahim's route, so why would blake? again, selective footage.

all casa amor boys. arjun is 'insistent'. elijah is just playing along to get with chelsea. felix is annoying. kassam is aloof, maybe even boastful. graham is the mastermind behind the plan of convincing the girls to switch. carl is a robot with no feelings. those are not true but they certaintly come across that way! the producers decided to focus on the bad habits/impressions. i think they realized there wasn't much potential for drama there. they weren't as aggressive as they hoped casa guys to be.

elisa. she's confident and slightly clueless at first. we don't know what her intentions were when she told chelsea about jahim's kiss but... she did. i think partly was the producers showing how *influencer* she could be, and that really defined the public's opinion on her. they portrayed elisa as a stereotype and only showed her cartunesque moments instead of the real ones. 'cause i don't believe she was like that all the time!

neither

jo. i know, i know. at the time everyone hated her, me included. i still do, kind of. it takes more than just a few chapters to make you like her but the way she conducted herself right off the bat was... well, we all saw it. she was saved by the fact that priya and shannon weren't a good fit for rahim, and being the half of the first official couple helped. the thing is... they weren't as interesting. the producers got what they wanted from her and less than a week later they were both gone. i think the recaps on the weekends were more than enough to help the public make their minds and the producers could keep possible drama queens in there, in the hopes of having one last hurrah.

rocco. i think he had help. not to look good, but to stay longer. the producers wanted to stretch that drama by delaying a boy departure to day 8. they created the drama themselves! they inserted a kissing challenge, after noticing he was getting close to marisol, then mr. love island contest, then a tweet challenge to get things going. by the time he leaves, the villa had been hit with the longest feud they had in season 2. it was 3 days worth of mayhem and screaming matches that involved every single person in the villa. roccogate was EFFECTIVE and they knew exactly what they were doing by keeping rocco a little longer.

lottie. i just think she was being herself and whatever came because of it was on her.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Mature [References Bullying and Homophobia]

Prompt: AU Rivalry Teamup

Summary: Sent away to a delinquents academy, Freed knew life wouldn't be easy. That was proven to be the case when he met Laxus, a cocky, aggressive arse who used his fists over his words. At least, that's what he thought when they first met, but things can change over the span of a year.

Notes: This is the sixth submission for Fraxus Week, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. This one has a brief descrition of bullying and period typical homophobia.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

The London School for Delinquent Boys

Year 1890

Location: London, England

"We've a new boy in class today," The teacher – Mister Porland, that's what he'd called himself – said as Freed stood before the blackboard. "Freed Justine. I expect you all to behave and not cause any trouble with him."

Freed would have picked another way to be introduced if he'd been granted the choice. He would have much rather not had an introduction at all, and instead he'd slip into the back of the classroom, wave off all the questions that would be aimed at him, and try and get through the first day without any complaints. Instead, he'd been forcibly marched to the front of a class of about thirty sixteen-to-seventeen-year-old boys – all of whom had been taken from regular education and placed in a disciplinary academy – and been served up almost on a silver platter.

He had to wonder if this was a punishment in and of itself. A hazing from the teachers.

It wasn't that he was intimidated by them, of course. He'd earned his place in the school just like them, and he could more than handle himself, but he didn't care for the fuss. This was as close to jail someone of his age and social stature could undergo and, due to an enthusiast habit of reading and a slight flare for the dramatic, he'd decided prison rules might best serve him. Rule number one was to keep your head down.

A few jeers, exclamations and a patronising whistle filled the room, quickly quietened by the teacher. Freed made an effort not to pay attention to it. Animals, all of them. At least he could be safe in the knowledge that he held moral superiority over them, not that he'd state it out loud. Idiots tended not to like being told that.

Keeping his head down would be harder than he thought.

After he was allowed to take his seat, he was forced to walk through the lot of them to the back of the classroom. The jeering continued, albeit quietly, and someone tried to trip him as he walked. He ignored them, and nearly got to his seat when a particular classmate caught his eye. He wore an arrogant sneer, had a scar running down his face, and had shoulders larger and broader than a student their age ought to have.

Freed would have thought the boy attractive were it not for the look of challenge in his eyes, one Freed knew all too well. This boy was testing him, wanting to see if he would be a victim in the school or someone to be respected. To show him, Freed halted his step, made eye contact with the boy for a few moments, and then continued walking to take his seat.

A little 'hm' was the blonde's only response, but Freed paid it no mind.

Two weeks passed before the blonde actual did anything. The two weeks consisted of Freed getting used to his new surroundings, idiots trying and failing to one-up him in the hopes of looking tough in front of their idiot friends, and the blonde's presence being constant but in the distance. That changed when the blonde approached him in the dinner hall.

"Hey," The blonde grunted in greeting, storming towards Freed. His body was tense, coiled up and ready for a fight. "You think you're better than me or something?"

Freed didn't know why the blonde thought that, exactly, but his response was instant. "Better than you, yes."

He felt that was a fair way to think. The blonde had proven himself to be nothing of note intellectually, he barely spoke in lessons and when he did it was usually to make an unwarranted joke or to get an answer wrong, and he seemed quick to anger. More than once, he'd lurched at another student, looking ready for a fight he'd probably win. The fights never happened exactly, but they seemed like a constant risk. So yes, Freed did think he was better than him.

"This whole thing might 'a worked out in yer old school," The blonde growled, taking another step forward. Freed didn't flinch. "But actin' like yer hot shit and that yer smarter than everyone here ain't working. You're here like the rest of us, and you ain't better just because your pa's got money."

"I don't think I'm better than everyone here," Freed retorted, also taking a step forward. "But I am better than an idiot who can't shut up and takes his hobby by rolling around in the mud, somewhat like a little pig. My betterment was never in question."

The insult wasn't his best. The reference to the blonde's position in the rugby team tenuous at best, and Freed's supposed superiority complex might have shone through – but it annoyed the blonde, so it served its purpose.

He would have rather not been shoved in the chest, though.

Stumbling back slightly, Freed made a choice. He had been told in no uncertain terms that he wasn't to get into another fight, it was partially the reason he was there in the first place, but the blonde deserved a punching. He seemed to be something of an unofficial head-boy, and the fear of him was obvious to anyone who would look, and as such Freed felt a punch to the face was long overdue. He was a student like anyone else, and while others might want to lie down and take it, Freed didn't.

That was why he punched him. It hurt more than he thought it would.

Their fight was hardly that. It lasted less than a minute, and anger overpowered its elegance. Freed perhaps got another two punches in, and received one in return. Teachers were storming over the moment it started, and were dragging them away before it could get out of hand, but Freed felt good to hit the bastard.

"Laxus Dreyar, Freed Justine," Their head teacher yelled, voice filled with a rage that Freed felt was slightly exaggerated given the situation. "My office, now."

As Freed was dragged – literally dragged, which again was an overreaction – into the office, he was sure of three things. He'd already completely failed in his goal of not bringing any attention on himself; his father was going to find out and want him thrashed for getting into a fight again; and Laxus Dreyar had perhaps the most interesting name he'd ever heard.

---

"You heard what he did?"

"Nearly killed him."

"Apparently they're gonna kick him out."

"Nah, he's the team captain."

Freed didn't pay attention to the conversations happening around him as he ate. After three months of being in the academy, he'd learned it was best not to. Most of the people had nothing of interest to say, and the people who were interesting were the ones likely to try and start a fight with you if they knew you were listening. He'd learned that when a younger boy, Natsu, tried to punch him and Freed had ended up dumping a bowl of cereal over the man's head and temporarily strangling him with his tie. The detentions and lack of breakfasts for a week had been worth it.

In truth, he'd forged a comfortable place for himself in the school. He was known as the boy who gave Dreyar a black eye, and that title came with its perks. Mainly that most people would leave him alone. He and Dreyar had… something. He couldn't tell if it was a truce, or simply a stalemate. But either way, Freed would enjoy the calm and only reignite the fight should Laxus need another punching.

Other than that, Freed was forgettable in the school. People ignored him, he ignored them, and everyone went on as if he hadn't arrived. The school was fine – teachers were far too happy to punish, but that was to be expected – and their lessons were as good as his old schools had been. Had his parents been scammed, the tuition fee had been high?

His parents were an issue. They hadn't visited, but they were in constant communication with the head teacher, and apparently their 'donations' meant Freed was put under a spotlight by the staff. Maybe that was why they were so quick to punish: they were being paid to do so. Annoying, but it could be worse.

The food, however, was abysmal.

Mashed potatoes and sausages would be a good meal, but the potato was half cooked, and the sausages were tiny. He'd eaten as much as he could stomach within a minute, so he absently played with the food with a slight huff. The rain, as tended to happen in England, was heavily pouring and Freed knew the moment a teacher saw he'd stopped eating he would be forced into the yard for recreational activities. The eating hall was at least partially warm, and he had to admit that the conversation behind him was of interest.

"What's that got to do with anything?" One boy shrugged.

"They don't wanna piss off the rugby team, they all worship him," The other explained. "If they kick him out, everyone gets angry about it, and they fight back. They'll never do it."

"You didn't see the kid," The first dismissed. "Half dead. They've gotta do something."

"Doesn't seem like Laxus to just beat a kid up for no reason," The second argued, and Freed did have to agree. Laxus was an argumentative and aggressive man, but he did tend to stick to people his own age. Mainly those who knew how to fight back, as well. "The kid must have pissed him off."

"Romeo, nah," The first laughed, and Freed frowned. "Kid's nothing. Wouldn't bother Laxus."

Romeo. Romeo Conbolt. It took Freed a moment to put a face to the name, and when he did his fork stalled and his body tensed. He had heard the rumours of a kid being beaten half to death, of course he had, but he hadn't heard who it was. He wouldn't have cared, were it not for the fact he had seen days prior the beating Romeo had endured. Laxus hadn't been the one to beat the kid, it had been a group of six of his classmates.

Freed had stopped it, of course. They were all thirteen, he was seventeen and the boy who got into a fight with the school's toughest figure, so they scarpered when he yelled at them to stop. He told the kid to go to the nurse, and saw the issue as finished with.

Had the kid used Laxus as a scapegoat? Or had it been the group of brats?

Either way, Freed was a man of principles. As much as he wouldn't mind seeing the back of Laxus and his insistence of approaching problems with his fists, it wasn't fair to have him blamed for something he hadn't done. Especially when a grown man beating a kid was something that could get him taken from the school and placed into an actual jail. That wasn't fair. He stood, and quickly started to walk towards the head teacher's office.

"Enter," The headmaster, Mister Fernandes, said once Freed had knocked on the door. Freed entered, and waited in silence. "Mister Justine. It's rare you're here voluntarily."

"I suppose so, sir," Freed agreed, ignoring the insult. "Sir, I have a complaint to make."

"Of course you do," Mister Fernandes sighed, removing a pair of spectacles, and leaning forward in his chair. "You do know that this is a disciplinary institution, and I don't act on the word of my students. If you have issues with your treatment then it's not my concern."

"I understand that sir," Freed assured him. "But my complaint is more about the treatment of another student: Laxus Dreyar."

"You needn't worry about that," Mister Fernandes dismissed the complaint, despite the fact Freed had yet to make it yet. "I know that you and he have something of a… personal vendetta against one another, and I'm sure that the rumours about what he has done have reached you. I will be following a strict set of procedures which will likely end up with him incarcerated for what he did to a younger boy. He'll be out of your hair soon, so don't concern yourself about it."

"That is not my complaint."

"If this is something to do with your silly feud then I'm really not interested by it," Mister Fernandes sighed. "As I said, he'll most likely be out of here within the month. If you can't be civil for that long then that's a bad reflection on your own character. And boys your age really should be fighting their own battles."

Freed bit back a retort, wanting to point out that the time he did try to fight his own battle he was dragged away and reprimanded. Instead, he calmed himself and spoke again with the level of respect a teacher believed they deserved.

"Laxus wasn't the person who attacked Romeo, sir," He said, and the headteacher paused. "It was a group of his classmates. Six of them, I believe."

"And you know this how?" Mister Fernandes asked.

"I walked in on them doing it, sir," Freed admitted, not flinching when the teacher looked at him with sharpened poise. "They stopped when I approached, Romeo went to the nurse's office and I expected him to tell you who actually was responsible, rather than placing the blame on Laxus. Had I known earlier what he'd done, I would have spoken to you sooner."

Mister Fernandes took a moment, thinking before sighing. "He did, actually. He gave me a list of names, before returning a day later stating that it was actually Laxus to blame, and that he'd lied initially as he was worried about the consequences."

"And you believed him?" Freed asked before he could stop himself.

"Are you questioning me, Justine?"

"No, sir."

He was.

"You're dismissed, Justine. Thank you for speaking with me," Mister Fernandes waved a hand in his direction, and Freed nodded curtly and went to walk away. "It was big of you to do this, Justine. Well done."

"It's what's expected of me, sir," Freed dismissed.

"Good man," Mister Fernandes nodded, before waving Freed off again.

Freed left, closing the door behind him. He immediately turned to the right and started walking towards the courtyard, which was still being battered by the heavy rain. As he walked, he was completely unaware that Laxus was leaning on the wall outside of the office, looking at Freed with an expression of mingled bewilderment, disbelief, and belligerent respect.

---

The idiom that the enemy of one's enemy was one's friend was a complicated one. It was limited, didn't work for all situations, and seemed to fall apart under any scrutiny. Freed had long since decided that it didn't make much sense when thought about, and yet he found himself subscribing to the idea when it fitted him.

That was the reason he found himself walking into the rugby team's changing room.

Laxus seemed to notice him approaching the moment Freed walked into the room, and stopped mid-way through changing into his kit to stare Freed down. Freed wasn't put off by the intense and lingering gaze of the man, walking towards him without hesitation. The room seemed to quieten around him, and Freed couldn't be sure if it was because of his presence in the room or because Laxus apparently changed in the back corner away from most of his team. That worked well for what Freed wanted, at least.

"The hell are you doin' here?" Laxus said, voice growly and angry sounding. He always sounded like that with Freed, but it seemed more intense today. Perhaps this how he acted before a match.

"I have a favour to ask of you," Freed stated.

"No," Laxus rebutted immediately.

"You might enjoy doing it."

"Wouldn't be a favour, it'd be an opportunity," Laxus smirked, seemingly proud of himself. Freed had to give him credit, it was somewhat clever. "So, what's the great and powerful Freed Justine need from a man like me? Lessons on how to be an idiot; that's what you keep calling me. Or is it a few tips on rolling around in the mud? Y'know, because that's all rugby is, right."

"The captain of the team you're playing," Freed began, rather than rising to the bait. "Hurt him for me."

"What?" Laxus asked, a laugh tainting the word.

"Hurt him," Freed repeated. "Kick him, punch him, give him a concussion if you're able to. Or perhaps accidentally kick him in the balls, that'd be rather nice to watch. Just do whatever you can to make him cry."

"Why?" Laxus grinned, clearly enjoying this.

"You're playing my old school's team, and he's the reason I got sent here in the first place," Freed admitted, ignoring the quirked eyebrow he got. "He deserves more pain than he gets, I suspect. I want you to remedy that."

"And why should I?" Laxus said, voice a little taunting as he continued to change into his rugby kit. Freed forced himself to ignore the strong body that was revealed to him when Laxus removed his shirt. "We ain't exactly friends, are we? Maybe I'd have more in common with him than I do with you."

"Do you need an excuse to hurt someone?" Freed asked, and Laxus held his gaze. Freed eventually relented. "I can tell you the team's weaknesses. The coach wont change tactics and so they can be exploited."

Laxus thought for a moment. "Nah, you don't need to. I'll do it."

"You will?" Freed asked. He… honestly hadn't expected that.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "So long as you watch. If I'm gonna put on a show, I wanna know I'm gonna have an audience."

Laxus pulled on his shirt, much to Freed's quiet disappointment, and sat on the bench before his locker. He leant against it and looked at Freed expectantly, who was looking back with confusion and disbelief. His arrival in the changing room was stupid at best – he'd seen the man who had gotten him there in the first place and old resentment bubbled up faster than Freed would have liked – and as such he had thought Laxus would dismiss him. It's what Freed would have done were the situation flipped.

"Why?" Freed asked.

"This place is shit, anyone would wanna punch the guy who put 'em here. I don't get to do it, but it'll be fun to do it to some other guy," Laxus shrugged, standing up and cracking his back when the coach called for the team to leave for their warmups. He stepped past Freed, but halted once they were all alone. "Be there, pretty-boy."

"What?" Freed stammered slightly. Had Laxus just…

"You think I don't know the reason you're here?" Laxus chuckled a little, but it lacked the edge it normally did. He lowered his eyes slightly and spoke softer than Freed was used to. "You two get caught? Or did he catch you with some other guy and squealed on ya?"

Freed shouldn't answer. He and Laxus weren't friends and admitting anything to him was stupid, but he found himself whispering, "The latter."

"Fucker," Laxus growled, equally quietly. Freed didn't know what to think of it. "Yer right, he needs a kick in the balls. I'll handle it."

"Thank you," Freed whispered.

"Don't worry about it," Laxus dismissed. "Besides, I guess I kinda owe you for stopping me from getting expelled, don't I?" Freed frowned a little. That had been half a year ago, and he didn't know that Laxus even knew of it. Laxus didn't seem to notice Freed's change in body language and continued talking with a smirk. "And, you never know, having a pretty little rich boy watching me might make me play better."

That was all Laxus said before slowly dragging a knuckle over Freed's cheek in a gesture so light but so intimate that Freed felt a shiver run over him completely. Laxus grinned at him, pushed his knuckle against Freed's lips for a split second, before leaving Freed alone in the locker room, heart racing and eyes wide.

---

"How did you know?"

"How'd I know what?"

"The real reason I'm here."

Both Freed and Laxus were sitting on the school house's roof. Laxus had been taking a drag of his cigarette when Freed had approached him and sat bedside him, and the blonde absently offered Freed one. He didn't take it, and for a few moments they had been sitting in silence before Freed had broken it.

It was the last day of the school year. Freed would be dragged back to his home, where his parents would no doubt have a list of grievances about his behaviour throughout the year. His father would make threats about how if his behaviour didn't improve immediately, he would be punished off the back of the man's belt. Nothing would come of it, of course – the elder Mister Justine stopped punishing Freed that way the moment Freed was of an age where he could fight back – but the yelling would be near consistent. It always was when Freed met with his parents now.

He wasn't going to complain. There was no point. Instead, he was going to tie off the loose ends of his school life, particularly with Laxus. Because, when it came to the beautifully, and now somewhat flirtatious man, Freed really didn't know where he stood.

"It's obvious, when you've been here for long enough," Laxus explained, puffing out a stream of smoke. "Yer not obvious, I don't mean that, but when you've been here for years you look out for the signs."

"And what were the signs?"

"You never spoke about why you're here other than saying you got into a fight. I'm guessing it was with the guy who told on ya," Laxus shrugged a little, shifting slightly so that his side was pressed against Freed. "Everyone here wears their story like a badge of honour. Getting into fights, beating kids up, stealing from places. They're all good stories and get's you a lot of credit in a place like this. The worse you were, the more respect you get," Laxus chuckled. "There's only one thing that gets you in here that you don't talk about. Yer queer, and you get found out."

"You don't talk about why you're here," Freed pointed out, and Laxus turned to look at him with a lazy smirk.

"My dad saw me with the neighbour kid," He laughed. "He wasn't even good looking, felt sorry for him really and wanted to know what it's like to kiss a guy. But dad walked in, threw a fit, and I've been here since I was thirteen."

"That's awful of him."

"Maybe, but this place ain't so bad once you get used to it," Laxus shrugged again, leaning back against the wall he was resting on. "Kinda funny, really. I'd say about a quarter of the guys are here for the same reason we are. If you know what to look out for, you can have a pretty good time."

"You could have told me," Freed laughed a little. "I've been rather bored."

"If I told ya, I wouldn't have you all to myself," Laxus grinned, and blew a puff of smoke directly into Freed's face. Freed simply quirked an eyebrow. "I've been spending the last couple of weeks showin' off to ya on the field and I think it was working pretty well. Hardly fair on me if I got you all excited only for ya to use it on some other guy."

"You're a manipulative man when you want to be, Laxus," Freed smirked, leaning just a little closer to Laxus. "But you haven't done anything yet, have you?"

"Maybe I want ya to be desperate for me," Laxus whispered, voice low and rumbling. "Maybe I'm waiting for you to make the move on me."

"If that's true, then maybe you've waited long enough."

They were close now, and Freed wanted to be closer. Laxus' hand was resting against his thigh, and Freed leant further in. He could smell the smoke on Laxus breath, see the slight dilation of the man's eyes as he grinned, and slowly brought their lips together in a slow, tentative kiss.

His first kiss. A beautifully electric, smoky kiss that set Freed's very soul on fire.

He tangled his hand into Laxus' short hair, tugging at it slightly and relishing the slight groan that he was given in return. Laxus pushed into him further, and Freed practically melted.

Eventually, when a harsh gust of wind flew over them and shook them from the spell of their kiss, they pulled apart. They were quiet for a moment, the gravity of what happened only just hitting Freed. He had just kissed the brutish, angry, brilliant man he had once expected to hate, and had felt more alive than ever before.

"You better be here next year."

"Nothing could stop me."

"That's right, pretty-boy."

They shared a smirk, and leant forward to reignite another perfect kiss.

[crystalelemental]

Is gladion a good sync pair, I haven't invested in many normal type sync pairs so I was thinking of starting with

Ah Gladion.  A unit I've never actually used despite liking him pretty well.  Yeah, it's probably a good idea to talk about him, considering what's coming.

General Overview Gladion holds the title of the most versatile unit in the game.  This is thanks to his trainer move, which shifts his typing to be that of the opponent's weakness.  This is incredibly valuable as a role, essentially letting him fill any offensive niche you may need due to bad rolls and lack of F2P options.  It also means he is the only unit I can think of who legitimately wants Super Striker 3 from the new Lucky Cookies coming out, as he'll always be playing to super-effective hits.  He's also physically offensive, which means he has a lot of support options to choose from, including Hop, Sonia, and Hilbert as the most effective single-use supporters.

Unfortunately, Gladion also got hit with the same stick Anni Steven did.  It's pretty clear to me that DeNA were worried about the potential utility of a unit that could literally do anything.  So he is hindered by his everything else.  Stats are even across the board, which is a nice way of saying they're bad.  He isn't that fast, doesn't hit that hard, and isn't that bulky (but does have Vigilance on grid apparently).  He has almost no multipliers aside from the cute Superduper Effective 2.  He can't self-buff much else.  Defense Crush is basically useless.  His only passive does nothing but give someone else stat buffs when he dies.  Gladion is an unfortunate case, in that he could've been tremendous, but is...not.  Kinda like the rest of his family's initial iterations, he's good but nothing exceptional.  Maybe one day he'll get a Master Fair and ascend like the other two did.

Team 1: Gladion, Classic Red, Hop/Sonia/Skyla Classic Red's introduction was met with a wave of excitement over the possibility of him and Gladion as partners.  And predictably, it worked out well!  Turns out, giving supereffective up next to a guy who's always super-effective for every attack is pretty good.  Classic Red also has Rock Smash, a nice way of cutting foe's defense for Gladion to deal even better damage.  All you need then is an attack suporter, right?  Or do you?  Technically, two X Atk and a use of Max Knuckle can cap Gladion as well offensively, which means you could, in theory, take a defensive supporter like Skyla and aim for a more sustained approach.  This is horrifically antithetical to how Classic Red plays, but there you go.

Team 2: Gladion, Hop/Sonia/Hilbert, Blaine/Winona/Bianca/Volkner Obvious setup in Gladion and his attack buffing partner.  But because Gladion can be any type, some are more effective than others.  Some types have field effects.  And those field effects work for him too.  So if you don't have a great sun damage-dealer (Somehow?  Silver's right there), Gladion can fill in.  I think Electric Terrain is probably the best of him to fill in on, since Sun, Rain, and Psychic all have really strong F2P options instead.  Ghost Zone and Dragon Zone will have similar applications as well, but their users are just going to be stronger than him anyway, truth be told.

Team 3: Gladion, Hop/Sonia/Hilbert, Bugsy&Scyther For teams that don't pack direct multipliers for him, this is the alternative.  Focus on debuffing foe's defense, and he'll be able to tear through eventually.  Bugsy&Scyther are unique in that they can technically cap his buffs as well, but that's putting a lot of pressure on Bugsy to do basically everything, so best to leave buffs elsewhere while Bugsy spams Leer.

Final Thoughts Gladion, despite his diversity, converges on one of a few sets.  He's the only unit that is super-effective against every stage, and holds a fantastic niche in that regard, but every team largely comes down to "You pair him with an attack/crit booster, then either apply field effects or defense debuffs."  He's definitely good, definitely capable.  But I'd be lying if I said I thought he was some tremendous force of nature.  I think he'd have more utility in a game where top damage dealers weren't capable of doing off-type damage so great they might win even more easily than he does.  But we do live in a meta where that's a thing, and Gladion kinda languishes as his niche is interesting but nothing too impressive.